Pirates of the Caribbean : The Treasure of Alba
by jackaroofan
Summary: When an expedition leader hires Captain Jack Sparrow and his crew to recover the legendary Treasure of Alba, Jack gets more than he bargained for - including romance. *Updated*
1. The Treasure of Alba

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Title: The Pirates of the Caribbean : The Treasure of Alba

Author: jackaroofan

Rating: PG-13 (R for later chapters...)

Summary: The island of Alba holds a mysterious secret and a hidden treasure that has been sought unsuccessfully by many. When a an expedition leader hires Captain Jack Sparrow and his crew to recover the treasure, Jack gets more than he bargained for - including romance. 

Disclaimer: No, I do not own _Pirates of the Caribbean_, nor do I own Johnny (too damn bad), or any other recognizable characters in this story. I do however, own Patrice St. Clair, and the story's concept. I am not making money off of this....yet. ;)

Author's Note: The character of Patrice is portrayed by actress Amelia Warner. This is also my first PotC fiction, so go easy on me...

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The Treasure of Alba

In 1696, the notorious pirate Henry Blackheart, captain of the "commandeered" merchant ship, Neptune's Triton, discovered an uncharted island off the coast of Barbados. Seeking refuge from those who wished to capture their acquired treasure, he and his crew buried it deep within an unmarked cave. 

Blackheart's crew was known throughout the sea as one of the most fortunate and wealthiest crews to ever set sail. Their plunders left many rich port's devastated - and the amount of their treasure was unmatched at the height of their careers.

After every large plunder, Blackheart convinced his crew to return to the island and store their wealth, keeping it safely locked away. He promised that once they were free of all charges against them, and were no longer hunted by authority, they could return to collect their riches.

1699 would mark the last year the crew of the Triton would ever see the island Blackheart so appropriately named Alba, meaning "dawn" - as the island could only be spotted as the sun rose. 

As the crew sailed to return to the island, a mutiny from another ship climbed aboard the Triton as most slept peacefully. Searching for the only map Blackheart had ever made showing the way to Alba, they killed every crew member looking for it. But Captain Blackheart was no fool. Not wishing to reveal the whereabouts of Alba, or the buried treasure, he jumped overboard before the mutineers could capture him. 

No man ever found his map. Nor his body. 


	2. Arrival in Lucia

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Arrival in Lucia

It was high noon and the square was crowded with civilians. She smoothed her hair down, feeling that her appearance was acceptable. For a moment more she watched the populace move to and fro, the ladies chatting delightfully with one another, dressed in their fine garments, as the gents stood bored beside them, smiling at every other passerby. 

As usual she would start there, at the marketplace, and make her way down to the dock, hoping to catch a few merchants or sailor's with a nice bag of gold, ripe for the taking. 

Muddling her way into the crowd, she "clumsily" bumped into a woman, spilling the contents of her velvet handbag. She carefully helped the woman up, brushing the dust from her dress. After several rounds of apology, she was gone, and with her, the woman's purse.

Patrice St. Clair was no amateur pick-pocket. She was a professional. Every day she combed the streets looking for something to steal - and everyday she managed to find a fair share in the wealthiest of pockets. She loved her job. 

Captain Jack Sparrow stood gazing from the bow of the Black Pearl. Silently he took in the life around him, observing the busy port. Lucia had always been a pleasant berth for him, with it's abundance of food, drink, and pleasurable company.

After most of the crew had dispersed onto the island, Jack took his leave, seeing that Gibbs attended to the ship. He strode onto the dock, proudly, grinning at the astonished faces who were more than amazed to see the legendary Black Pearl in Lucia's port.

His first order of business was to find a good tavern, with plenty of rum. And he knew just the place. The Blue Bayou. He could see it's sign waving in the wind, beckoning him to it. It was probably one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. 

Lucia's cobblestone streets were overly-crowded that day, and to him it seemed there were people at every turn. He remembered then why he enjoyed living on the sea, rather than in the hustle and bustle of the ports. Less crowd and more freedom. 

Eagerly he pushed past other civilians, his eyes set on the open door to the Bayou. Perhaps it was fate that he did not notice the young woman hastily making her way forward, coming at him, dead on. It was only after they collided that their eyes met.

"My apologies, miss," Jack explained, helping the young woman to her feet.

She looked at him for a moment and then leaned in, whispering, "You're a...pirate?"

He grinned. "Guilty as charged, love. Captain Jack Sparrow at your service."

"Jack Sparrow!" she exclaimed, placing her hand on his. "The infamous captain of the Black Pearl...who sent Barbossa and his evil crew back to the depths of hell!"

He shrugged, trying his best to remain humble. But she was right. "Go on..."

"The man who sacked Nassau port without even firing a shot!"

"Go on..."

"The sworn enemy of the East India Trading Company - after he vanished right under their eyes, am I right?"

He nodded, his arm coyly sliding around her. "You are, love...I am that man."

"Good to know...," she said, patting his shoulder. 

He watched, somewhat bewildered, as she said no more and quickly walked away in the opposite direction.

Later, as Jack downed his forth glass of rum at the Bayou, he noticed something. His ring was missing. Yes, the silver ring with the black stone he always wore...it was absent from his finger. He shook his head, trying to recall where it might have gone, the rum however, was not giving good aid to his memory. The ring never left his finger, so someone must have taken it. But when? 

As his bleak mind searched backwards through the day's ventures, he remembered the girl he had bumped into, just earlier before coming to the tavern. He remembered her hand on his. Had she taken it then? She must have!

He jumped up, patting himself to assure that all of his goods were in place. His compass. It too was missing. He couldn't sail without it -- regardless of the fact it didn't point North. "Damn woman...," he cursed under his breath, readying himself to retrieve his effects. 

As he was about to exit, Anna Maria entered the tavern and stopped him. "Captain Sparrow, we're ready to depart. We've purchased more supplies and bartered a few items. The crew is waiting on the dock."

He staggered past her. "That damn woman...she's stolen my compass! And my ring! Bloody pirate!"


	3. Swords Crossed

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Author's Note: Special thanks to everyone who has reviewed. *blushes at berth mistake* I appreciate your kind compliments and words of encouragement. I have two quick plugs: If you're a fan of Jack Sparrow, please join my fanlisting **[the link is in my profile]**, savvy? ; and I also got my PotC soundtrack today, which is phenomenal. I recommend everyone rush out and buy one. It really helps to get the creative juices flowing. :D 

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Swords Crossed

  
  


Her eyes fluttered open.

"Good morning, love. Have a nice sleep?"

Patrice felt a sharp object pressing against her temple. He had her by gun point. She swallowed, unsure of what to do. No one had ever come after her before. 

"You have two things of mine, that I'd very much like back."

She shook her head. "I haven't the slightest clue what you're talking about."

"My ring. And my compass."

She looked around. "How did you get in here?!"

He smirked. "The woman downstairs found my pistol to be very persuasive when we were in the same situation." 

"I see...well, I have your items, just in my bureau."

"Get them," he demanded. 

"Gladly, if you'll remove the pistol from my head," she snapped.

Jack blinked and put down his weapon. Slowly she moved to her bureau, opening a number of drawers before stopping. She paused for a moment more before she turned around, pointing a sword at his heart.

Jack ran one hand along her blade, while the other slid his sword from its sheath. "Too rash, love. Too rash."

She cocked her head, attacking first. They blades met with a loud "TWANG". Jack's look of confidence suddenly morphed into a look of surprise. Patrice grinned proudly. He moved again, assuming the offensive against her attacks. They fought gallantly about the living quarters, Jack carelessly slashing here and there, hoping to stop Patrice's constant blows.

"You're rather good....for a thief," he said, winking at her.

"Funny...you're terrible for a pirate!" she replied, moving forward again.

It was a comical sight almost, as one thought they had defeated the other, only to be attacked again and the fight would resume. Jack became increasingly irritated at her counter attacks, seeming to come with astonishing ease. He hadn't been this challenged since Will. Or better yet, Barbossa.

He started to back her into the corner of the room, as Patrice desperately tried to ward off his blows. When he had cornered her successfully, their blades pushed up against one another, Jack shoving Patrice, Patrice shoving Jack.

"I think we're getting closer....you and I," he teased.

"We're not nearly close enough," she spat. "There's far too much room between my blade and your throat!" she pushed him off of her, sending Jack backwards and unprepared, where he stumbled over a chair. 

Standing up, somewhat confused, he looked at her and scratched his head. "Where did you learn to fight?"

"It's none of your business!" she yelled, coming at him again. Unsuspecting, Jack quickly put up his blade, ready to receive her. 

They fought another round until he lowered his weapon and looked at her, clearly spent. "Look love, I don't want to fight ya. How about you and I take our aggressions out in...other ways. I'm an awfully good sport."

Patrice threw her sword onto the floor and slowly moved toward him. "Captain Sparrow...are you trying to bed me?"

He shrugged and tried his best to look convincing. "If that's what you fancy."

She stopped just in front of him, her face inches away from his. "You are the worst pirate, I have _ever_ seen...," and with that, she reached behind him, grabbing the small, wooden jewelry box from the top of her bureau and smashed him atop the head.

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*cringe* That hurt me just writing it. Poor Jack-aroo. Oh, yeah, please review. More on the way. 

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	4. The Proposition

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Author's Note: *dies* Garsh, I can't believe all the reviews this story has gotten! I'm overwhelmed and flattered! I can't thank everyone enough for the positive comments and warm praises. I am so happy to hear Patrice is well liked. I am trying my hardest to avoid making her a Mary Sue - and I'm glad to see that so far I'm succeeding. Also, I was delighted to see everyone who joined my fanlisting - keep 'em coming! :)

**__**

The Proposition

  
  


When he finally came to, it was evening. Her room was dark, but Jack could tell that it was bare. She was gone. And so was his compass and his ring. Rubbing his head, which ached terribly, he attempted to stand up. 

He lurched to the door and opened it, taking one last glance at empty room. He was astonished how quickly she had vanished, not wishing to be found by him again. He was almost sad by the thought. 

Once outside, Jack needed something to ease the clamoring pain in his temples. Rum. What else but rum? He knew the crew was probably concerned over his whereabouts, but he needed to get drunk. And soon. 

The Bayou was empty, save three or four tables seating other gangly fellows, most of which Jack already knew. He took a seat at the bar, ordering the largest mug of rum. He figured he'd give his head a wee bit of ease before wondering back to the Pearl and readying to depart. 

As he sat, gazing blankly into the flame of a nearby candle, a group of properly dressed men entered the tavern. Most of the other inhabitants looked concerned, afraid these were representatives of the Royal Navy. Jack could tell by their colored grab, that they were not. 

They stood silent for a moment, their eyes searching amongst the tables. When they spotted a slumped over captain drinking at the bar, the man in front nodded, and the others exited quickly. Jack was more than surprised when he felt a hand on his shoulder, jerking him up. "What's this?" he asked, not amused by the interruption. 

"Jack Sparrow?" the man asked, eyeing him.

"_Captain_," he emphasized. "Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Yes, Captain Jack Sparrow. I have a proposition for you."

He turned around and looked at the man. He was elderly - in his late fifties, early sixties. He had a white mustache which was curled up at the ends, looking well shaven and attended to. This man obviously had money. "I _said_," he reiterated, "I have a proposition for you."

"And what could a man like you possibly want to propose to a man like me, eh?"

The man chuckled and took a seat beside Jack. "My name is Tyrone Hutchinson. I'm the leader of a British expedition group settled in the Caribbean. Our job is to recover rare and expensive artifacts left over from these...darker ages."

Jack closed his eyes and smiled superficially, not fond of the man's reference to the Pirating era.

"I'm going after the Treasure of Alba, Mister Sparrow. And I want you to help me."

He choked on his swig of rum. The Treasure of Alba? Could this man be serious? "Do you realize, Mister Hutchinson that no man has ever been able to successfully retrieve said treasure? No man." 

"Until now..."

Jack leaned back in his chair. "You want me to help you go after a treasure that nobody's ever found, on an island that can only been seen in the dawn, with no map or no directions?"

Tyrone nodded.

"I'll save you the time, mate. You're going to have to find some other scallywag to help you, because this one's not."

"Even if I offered you 30 percent of the treasure?"

He cocked his head and thought for a moment. "50."

"35."

"40. "

He grunted. " 40 percent...that is, when and if you find the treasure."

Jack stuck his hand out, allowing Tyrone to take it firmly and shake it. "We have an accord, then."

"I'll be sending a member of my group to accompany you...to oversee your progress."

Jack's smile collapsed. "Do you really find that necessary?"

Tyrone stood. "Seeing as that you are a pirate, I find it more than necessary. I'll have my man waiting on the dock by morning. Good evening Mister Sparrow."

"And how am I to find this island in the first place?!" 

"That, I leave to you, Captain. That's how you earn your 40 percent," Tyrone laughed, exiting the tavern, leaving Jack dumbfounded and unsure of his agreement. 

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Ta da! Yet another chapter complete. Go me.


	5. A New Accord

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A New Accord

  
  


He saw her standing on the dock, waiting for him. He smiled and walked over to her. "Have you come to apologize for bein' so mean to me?"

Patrice rolled her eyes. "Absolutely not."

"Then why are you here, love?"

"I heard you're going after the Treasure of Alba." 

Jack laughed. "You don't miss a thing, do ya?"

"I want to go with you," she stated, matter-of-factly.

He shook his head and hoisted a barrel onto his shoulders, walking towards the ship. 

"Wait!" she cried, following him. "Wait!"

"Do you have a name, missy?" he asked, spinning around to face her. 

She straightened up. "Patrice St. Clair."

"Well, Miss St. Clair, you can turn yourself around and march back up those stairs from whence you came. Where we're goin', ain't no place for a lady."

"And who says I'm a lady? I can handle it! I stole from _you_, didn't I?"

He scratched his chin. "Yes, and I would very much like those things back, _if _you don't mind." 

"And you can have them..._if_ you let me go with you," she mocked him.

He handed the barrel to Gibbs who eyed Patrice with a cautioned eye. "It's bad luck to bring a woman aboard, sir. We've already got one - don't burden us with another," he pleaded.

"Aye," Jack agreed, pushing Patrice out of the way. "Bad luck."

She crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. "I hardly believe in superstition such as that, Captain Sparrow. Besides," she lowered her voice. "You need me."

"And why is that, lass? What could I possibly need from a pick-pocket?"

"A map," she said, simply, watching as he immediately stopped what he was doing. 

He walked over to her, beguilingly sliding an arm around her waist as they began to walk away from the dock. "And let me guess...you have one."

"No...But I know where it is."

Jack leaned backwards and laughed heartily. "You know where Henry Blackheart's map is? That's impossible! Improbable! Men have been searching for that map as long as I can remember. No one has ever found it!"

"Perhaps they've been searching in the wrong places, Captain Sparrow." 

"Don't be daft, love."

She pulled away from him. "And without a map...how will you find the island?"

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but then fell silent. 

"Still working that one out, eh?" she replied, sarcastically. 

He shook his head. "And, if I _let_ you accompany us, what's in it for you?"

"10 percent of your takings. I think that's more than fair, don't you?"

He nodded, pursing his lips. 

"Let me aboard your ship, and I'll take you to Alba." 

He thought for a moment, then spoke, "And you'll give back my compass and my ring?"

Patrice huffed. "And I'll give back your bloody compass and your ring!"

He smiled. "We have an accord. Welcome aboard the Black Pearl, Miss St. Clair."

"Patrice," she said, happily, before turning around to fetch her belongings.

Gibbs wondered down to Jack, looking frustrated. "Are you crazy?!"

"She knows where Blackheart's map is," he declared.

Gibbs stammered. "That's not possible!"

He turned to face Gibbs, placing a hand on his shoulder. "If we don't take her, we might as well plan on sailing around the Spanish Main for the rest of our lives, lookin' for this island."

Both men watched as Patrice dragged a large wooden trunk up the gangway and onto the ship. Gibbs heaved with annoyance. "Women."

Jack looked outward toward the port. "Where's our English friend, I wonder? Hutchinson said that he would be here."

"There!" Gibbs pointed out, as an impish man hurriedly made his way down to the dock.

"Yoo-hoo! Pirates!" he called out, waving at the boat. "I could use some assistance with my things!"

Jack sighed, rubbing his temples. "This is going to be a voyage I shan't forget."

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For now, chapters won't be much longer. Sorry. That is just how I write. :)


	6. Shore to Ship

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Author's Note: I'd like to dedicate this chapter to a few people: to Audra, for being my Beta reader, whether she likes it or not. She did not share the pizza with me...but still listened to my rantings about this crazy story. To Katie; who was kind enough to dedicate a chapter to me, so I am returning the favor - you're a sweet one, love. And finally, to mom...who is always a willing listener, and who's writing is much better than mine, but won't admit to it. 

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Authors Note #2: I have no idea when Liz or Will come into this story. Chances are, they won't. And if they do, it will be a brief cameo. This story is about Jack-aroo. So...if that doesn't float your boat, jet now. :)

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Shore to Ship

"Must you toss that about?!" he cried, watching the pirates carelessly throw his bags into the cargo hold. "Be careful!" he shouted at Gibbs, who was lugging his wooden trunk across the deck. "There are things in there worth more than you'll ever pillage!"   
  
Jack smirked. "I think introductions are in order, nay? We have not yet heard your name, mate."

"Of course not," he replied, smiling. "I have not said it."

There were annoyed grunts from the crew. 

"My name," he stated proudly, "Is Cornelius Ward."

"Well, Mister Ward, this is my ship," Jack proclaimed, walking over and taking his place beside his gathered crew, allowing Anna Maria to take the helm. "And this is my crew. We do things the way we want to. And if ya' don't like it, we can always toss ya' overboard...savvy?"

The Englishman turned an immediate shade of white. He stumbled backwards and allowed the men to continue loading his bags in with the other luggage. 

Jack then took the opportunity to take in Cornelius' measure. He was diminutive man, short, thin, and displayed extremely feminine characteristics. Jack guessed he was probably a eunuch. His wig was far too big for his head, and therefore he was constantly adjusting it in hopes to better the fit. He was also the master of an ornate sword, which Jack assumed was to make up for other areas in which he was...less endowed. 

"Is there anyway to stop all of this rocking?!" Cornelius inquired in a shrill tone. "It's making me rather ill."

Gibbs groaned. "Land lovers..."

The hatch to the forecastle then flew open, and Jack moved in quickly to help Patrice onto the deck. 

"I do not look to be served by the captain of this ship," she stated, ignoring his outstretched hand and hoisting herself up. 

"Nor would you be. I was reaching for my ring and my compass," he jested. 

Patrice smirked and reached into the bodice of her simple dress. The crew whistled proactively as she handed back both of his items. 

"And who might you be, fine lady?" Cornelius drawled, squeezing his way in between them. He took Patrice's hand and politely kissed it, his wig shifting slightly on top of his head. 

"Another passenger, like yourself," she replied, drawing her hand back. "Have you a name?"

"Cornelius Ward."

"A member of the British expedition group no doubt. You're looking rather pale, Mister Ward. Are you all right? "

"Just getting used to the boat...," he explained. "And you? What is your purpose?"

"That, Mister Ward, will be revealed in all due time. For now I am merely a passenger, and you may call me Miss St. Clair," she retorted before brushing past him. 

Cornelius' stood silent for a moment before spewing, "I think I'm going to be sick!" and rushed to the side of the boat. 

In the evening, Jack wondered down into the crew's quarters. He meandered to find Patrice, who had already fallen asleep, a book lying open on her stomach. He stooped down and looked at her, watching as she drew in quiet breaths through her slightly parted lips. He thought for a moment that she almost looked beautiful. 

Careful as not to disturb her, he reached for the book, hoping to catch a glimpse at whatever she was reading. But Patrice was wakened by his sudden movement, and sprang up, pulling a silver dagger from under her pillow. 

"Easy love," Jack cooed.

"Is it a pirate custom, Captain Sparrow, to sneak up on women whilst they're sleeping?" she sounded generally irritated. 

"Only the pretty ones," he winked. 

She sat up and returned the knife to it's hiding place. "Is there something you wanted?"

"I've come to fetch ya' to a crew meetin'..."

She cocked her eyebrow. "I didn't realize I was a member of the crew now. Shall I swab the decks next, Captain?"

"I was hoping ya' might want to listen in."

She shook her head and adjusted her white cotton nightgown. "Not tonight, Captain Sparrow...I'm far too tired. Perhaps tomorrow, we can have a meeting of our own."

Jack nodded. He pulled the book from Patrice's hands and looked it over. "Why do you bothering reading this nonsense?"

She snatched it back, offended. "It's far from nonsense. Almost everything I know in the world, I owe to books." 

"And pick-pocketing? Did you learn that from a book, eh?"

"No, actually, I learned that from a pirate." 

Jack sat down beside her and started flipping through the pages of poetry. "Do tell..."

"When I was a little girl, my mother and I were living in a room that overlooked the main courtyard in Lucia. Although my mother refused to allow to me to attend executions in public, I was a captive audience from our window. One day, I watched as a pirate spread through the crowd, taking purses and jewelry from the eager spectators, none of them the wiser of what had been stolen. I made up my mind then, that I wasn't going to sell my body, like my mother, and so many other women of this age, but instead steal to earn my way." 

Jack was quiet. She was a natural pirate. "Is that story true?"

Patrice batted her eyelashes, playfully. "No. It's just something I made up to get you to leave."

Jack snickered and stood up. "I'll be off then."

She watched as he began to walk away. "It was nice of you to drop in, Captain! I hope you drop in again some time!"

He waved his hand and turned the corner, leaving Patrice alone in the forecastle, save for a snoring Cornelius. She laid back onto her pillow, listening to the ship creak as it moved through the waves. 

She found herself strangely drawn to Jack. And although she wished to admit it was not in a romantic way, she was beginning to feel a sort of attachment to him. Perhaps that was why she had opted to accompany him in the first place. 

Patrice had overheard that he had been hired by and expeditionary to seek the Treasure of Alba. It was only after a night of self-convincing that she had offered him her help. True, she knew where the map was hidden, but she often doubted whether or not she could trust a pirate to secure that knowledge. Deep down, however, she wanted to help him, for the simple fact that he had remembered her face well-enough to come after her. She found that to be rather flattering. 

She sighed, dropping her book to the floor. She knew, all too well, what exactly the crew was discussing. What to do with her once she disclosed the location of the map. She shut her eyes, thinking hard. She couldn't tell Jack yet. It was too much of a risk. If she told him, he might kill her anyway, regardless of the fact that she was the only one who could decipher its directions. There was also the matter of the Englishman. Her intuitions told her that he wasn't as delicate as he seemed. 

She decided then that she would instruct Jack to continue sailing south east. When they reached Barbados, she vowed to tell him, as much as it pained her, just where exactly the map was hidden. And it was in the most unlikely of places. 


End file.
